“Hmmm…I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”
“You’re a more impressive woman than I had guessed!”
“You’re able to keep clear of that and still drink?”
These are some of the responses I’ve gotten this past week when I revealed my one deepest, darkest secret: that I used to be a methamphetamine addict. No, I’m not joking. Yes, I can drink and “keep clear” (…err, somehow those two phrases don’t belong together).
My favorite comment so far I think has come from my dad who once said to me, “Are you going to write a book like A Million Little Pieces? You wouldn’t do that to us would you?”
This week marked 9 years since I decided “one hit was too many and a thousand was never enough,” as the 12-step saying goes. It has been 9 years since I admitted that my life had gotten out of my control and I needed help to steer it back on track.
People are mostly baffled when I tell them this secret because I don’t fit the image in their head of what a methamphetamine addict should be like. Some personal facts that don’t quite match up:
- I was accepted to and graduated from the best public school in the US: UC Berkeley, achieving a 3.2 GPA.
- I have traveled to over 10 countries in Europe and Latin America
- I have a successful career
- I have a loving family
- I am a home owner
- I appear to have my shit together
- All of my teeth are real
- I don’t live in a trailer
The why, what, when, where, and how of my addiction are not the interesting questions to clarify. I know that my experience as a meth (referred to colloquially as crank, speed, tweak, crystal, ice, or shit (these are here because people always ask for clarification)) addict gave me some important life lessons. It is a highly addictive substance and the consequences of addiction are life threateningly dangerous. I would never wish my experience on anyone and would never, ever (ever, ever) recommend that anyone should (or could), say, experiment a time or two without inhaling.
It’s hard to say why I had to endure this baffling and traumatic experience. I was raised in a loving middle class household with supportive parents. I guess this is one of those situations where the whole is less than the sum of its parts. As infamous addict Bradley Nowell of the 90s California ska/poprock band Sublime once sung, before he died of an overdose, “what I really want to say I can’t define.” What I can attempt to say (ma’ baby) is that my experience defines who I am as a person, and probably even led me to creating this blog about kindness, in some roundabout way.
I present you with three lessons I learned from my experience on the dark side.
1. The addict is not the “other”
“An alcoholic is someone you don’t like, who drinks as much as you do.” –Dylan Thomas
The addict is I and the addict is also…you. We all have addictions: coffee, alcohol, relationships, exercise, Facebook, sugar, sex, cigarettes, TV, etc. These are all distractions from being present in our lives. Reality is difficult for all of us to face and we all try to escape it through some method or another. It’s a matter of access. If you were given some methamphetamine to try, you would become hooked because it is a very powerful substance. But you’ve probably never been offered. When you come home from work and watch TV for 4 hours instead of working to make the world a better place, or even merely making you a better person, this is the same thing: escape from thoughts/escape from reality.
In August of this year, through my work, I visited a shelter in Brooklyn for women who are the victims of domestic abuse (it’s under the umbrella organization of my recent place of employment and we were getting a tour). I was really moved by the experience of seeing this and other places such as a foster care residence. I thought “it’s so nice to know that there’s help when we need it.” A coworker of mine had a different reaction: “It was depressing because I realized how much pain there is out there.” Out there. She saw pain as the “other” and I saw it as a potential part of myself.
We all fail, just to varying degrees. The only thing that separates the successful businessperson living in a NY high-rise from the woman sleeping over the subway vent out front is opportunity and access.
This quote hung on the refrigerator at my mother’s house for the duration of my childhood: “No man’s guilt is not yours, nor is any man’s innocence a thing apart.” –William Saroyan
My time as an addict gave me the best gift I could have never thought to ask for: it granted me the deepest of compassion and empathy for every living being. Because I know what darkness looks like through the window of my own soul, I now have the ability to look into another human’s eyes and know, truly know, that my pain and their pain are one in the same.
2. Adversity breeds resilience
It is also possible that the opposite is true: that resilience can overcome adversity. And maybe that’s why I was addicted to one of the most powerful man-made drugs for < 1 year and why instead I’m not lying dead in a ditch somewhere. But for the sake of the next few paragraphs, let’s talk about how overcoming something difficult and traumatic breeds character.
I just finished reading Malcolm Gladwell’s latest work of nonfiction, David and Goliath: Underdogs, Misfits, and the Art of Battling Giants. “In David and Goliath, Malcolm Gladwell challenges how we think about obstacles and disadvantages, offering a new interpretation of what it means to be discriminated against, or cope with a disability, or lose a parent, or attend a mediocre school, or suffer from any number of other apparent setbacks.”
Certainly not everyone who has faced a setback has come out stronger and more successful, but for those of us who have, we are given something valuable: the ability to overcome.
According to Wikipedia (which lets face is, is akin to God as the word of truth), “Methamphetamine addiction is one of the most difficult forms of addiction to treat. As a result of methamphetamine-induced neurotoxicity to dopaminergicneurons, chronic use may lead to post acute withdrawals which persist beyond the withdrawal period for months, and even up to a year. A study performed on female Japanese prison inmates suffering from methamphetamine addiction showed that 49% experienced “flashbacks” afterward and 21% experienced a psychosis resembling schizophrenia which persisted for longer than six months post-methamphetamine use; this amphetamine psychosis could be resistant to traditional treatment.”
Scary. Shit.
Because I kicked one of the most toxic, most addictive, and most powerful drugs known to man, I know that I am capable of anything. This summer I crushed my personal fitness goals, dropping three pant sizes in three months of dedicated diet and exercise change. And I did it without even thinking about cheating on my plan, not even once (ask my co-workers, who were SO ANNOYED by my not eating the notorious break room cake or bagels (if you’re a cubicle clockwatcher, you know about the break room treats), not even one single time).
Some other personal achievements post-rehab:
- When I returned to UC Berkeley after taking 3 years off to sort out my brain-meats and do some soul-searching, I achieved near straight-A grades.
- I then moved to Europe with $600 to my name and survived for a year by couchsurfing, hitchhiking, WOOFing, knocking on doors for work, and exercising extreme frugality.
- I came back home to found and run SLO Green Drinks, a bi-monthly networking event for environmentalists. This event raised thousands of dollars for local nonprofits over the years, connected me with the movers and shakers of San Luis Obispo, and helped me get employment.
- I eventually got a job I loved: managing HumanKind Fair Trade store. I was given the task of helping dredge the account ledger out of the red and I tackled it ferociously, increasing sales dramatically within my first year as manager and saving the store from closing its doors.
- A year ago I ran my first ever half marathon and a month ago I ran my first ever full marathon.
- My mom and I completed the Philadelphia Marathon together Nov 17, 2013. My mom is one of the strongest women I know and a talented runner. I never thought I’d accomplish this feat, let alone beside my inspiration!
Could I have done all of this without having undergone the painful experience as a drug addict? It is impossible to say. Is it possible that I did it better and with more confidence and resilience because I had acquired the ability to overcome hardship? Malcolm Gladwell argues yes.
My high school acquaintance Melissa recently wrote a blog about having been a “loser-kid” in high school. She is now a locally-famous internet personality as the “ifixit girl.” She is warm, genuine, inspiring, and from what I can deduct, a wonderful mother while maintaining a successful career. “We were “LoserKids,” and our weirdness, brokenness, and resourcefulness made us exceptional,” she argues in her blog post. Here’s something I’ve noticed: LoserKids get stuff done. LoserKids are innovative, and hilarious, and sensitive, and above all things, they’re brave. They’re used to being the weirdos, so they’re not afraid to stand up and speak against injustice. Their disadvantages growing up turned into their super powers as adults. LoserKids set the bar high, and they achieve, and when they’re done, they celebrate, and laugh, and prepare to do it all over again. LoserKids know how to work. Hard.” Visit www.melissajenna.com for more amazingness!
Here’s a photo of a famous loser-kid with the word “reject” emblazoned across his chest. He went on to become one of the most highly regarded and most successful actors of all time.
This blog post reports: “We don’t know many women who would say no to Hollywood’s leading man, but sure enough, Brad Pitt faced lots of rejection in middle school. He literally wore it on his chest. A snot-nosed 14-year-old who would grow up to become one of the world’s most attractive men gave his Cherokee Middle School basketball team the nickname “Rejects.” The Daily Mail reports Pitt helped organize the squad with friends after being cut from the eighth grade team in 1977.”
If Brad Pitt proudly wore his badge of loserdom, then let me sing my failures loud and clear! And then let me follow that song with one about how I WILL CRUSH ADVERSITY. BRING IT!
3. Buy in bulk The truth is never as terrifying as it seems
Easily the hardest day of my entire life was the day I told my parents that I had a problem: that I was a drug addict and I needed help. Having to tell them was so terrifying that in the months leading up to my dropping out of college and moving home, the thought of them knowing that I was a monster drove me to use more drugs. Oh the irony* of it!
Right now I’m in between jobs and it seems terrifying. What if I never find a career I like? What if no one wants to pay me what I’m worth? What if I’m not worth anything? What if I have to move back in with my parents? What if everyone thinks I’m worthless? These are the thoughts running through my head at any given moment (and I’m okay with that because you’d be lying if you said you never have these same thoughts. I’m calling you out).
When I stop listening to the panicked voice in my head, breathe, and then ask myself “what’s the worst possible thing that could happen in this situation?” and then accept that answer as do-able, then everything in my world is suddenly right again and I can face the day.
In the worst possible case scenario I can’t find a job, everyone thinks my resume sucks, I move back to California and I go on unemployment. Even worse? My family thinks I’m a loser and disowns me and I live under a bridge for a while until I can panhandle enough to buy a cardboard box and maybe a tarp. I’d probably make friends with a stray cat and maybe some cool trustafarians with a dog, maybe even acquiring Lyme’s disease. I’d probably appreciate meals more. And I’d learn to let go of some, if not all, of my materialistic clingings. Ideal? Absolutely not. Doable? Totally. Okay, now that I’ve faced that reality and some of my deepest fears (rejection, losing my possessions, humiliation) I’m ready to tackle the challenge of finding my next source of gainful employment.
The next time you are facing an immobilizing huge decision, just think about what it must have felt like for me to tell my parents that I had a drug problem. I thought they wouldn’t love me anymore. There’s pretty much nothing as hard as facing the fear of being unlovable. If I could face that fear, you can do pretty much anything. Hey! That’s pretty good advice! I should take it!
In conclusion
Why am I coming out with this? Why now?
I’m sick of slinking out of the room every time someone mentions how much they LOVE Breaking Bad. I’m sick of feeling ashamed about who I am. I’m sick of people pointing fingers at others. I’m sick of the financial disparity this causes. I’m sick of pretending that I’m okay. I’m not okay. I’m never okay. I will be taking life “one day at a time” for the rest of my life because that is where the magic happens: in the present moment.
A woman in one of my college classes once said to me “when I first met you I thought you were a stuck-up bitch and I was jealous of you because I thought you looked like Jessica Biel.” But guess what? I’m a mess, just like you are. The fellow student who said this to me went on to become my best friend so it’s a good thing we got to know each other. Thinking about comparing yourself to someone else? It’s the surest path to misery! Don’t go there!
“Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.” This unattributed quote is often posted as a response to the photographs of Humans of New York. His portraits paint a picture of a species full of flaws, suffering, and often, loneliness. As the public views the photos and captions there is a realization from which springs hope, connection, and compassion. We see ourselves in the other and we realize, maybe for the first time, or maybe for the thousandth reminder, that we are all struggling with the overwhelming challenge that is life.
Please be kind. Please try not to judge. Just for today. Or if that’s too much, just for one hour, or one minute.
The reason my dad doesn’t want me to write A Million Little Pieces is because he feels shame that he didn’t do a good enough job as a parent and that people will find out how terrible he is if they know that his daughter was a drug addict. The truth is that he is one of the most inspiring people I have ever known and it is an honor to call him my dad. His strength and love helped heal me and continues to help me face adversity.
It took me a week to tell my parents that I’d been let go from my job because of fear and shame and you know what they each said? “You are capable of anything. We believe in you. And we are here to help if you need it.”
It is a wonder with so much love in the world that there is so much shame**. This is my path out of shame. This is my path toward kindness. Please join me.
*I’m always leery of using this word for fear of sounding like an idiot, or even worse, like Alanis Morisette, but I think I’m using it correctly here in that the expected outcome “asking for help” leads to something contrary “continuing the problem,” in this case drug use. Please let me know if I’m wrong!
**Yes, Brenè Brown is a huge source of inspiration to me! How did you know?
Reposted from www.kindnesschallengeblog.com post 12/20/13